Psychological Dependencies
by JMcKay
Summary: Faced with a task far more challenging than anticipated, Dean must deal with going clean, as well as the mysterious blue eyed man he's falling for when his drinking habits land him in rehab. AU Dean/Cas
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer**: Supernatural © Eric Kripke_

_**Author's Note**: Just an idea that I thought I'd work with on the side of my other fic. Small prologue, chapters will be larger I promise! :-) What do you think? Continue with it? Dean/Cas shall ensue in later chapters._

* * *

><p>For most people, it's easy to tell when their life has gone down the shit hole. For others it takes a little while before they realize the life choices they made could possibly have been better judged, though at the time they most likely had no clue as to what would come as consequence. Generally it's <em>those<em> people that are confronted with the 'oh shit' moment at the last possible minute, and then they're scrambling to figure out where they possibly went wrong.

Of course, there's lots of validation for their actions, as one would say. As stated, at the time everything in life didn't seem to matter. In fact, that extra beer, even though they're shit faced, didn't seem like a bad idea—at the time. The same goes for the out all night party goers who decided that, yes, those questionable pills _did_ sound like fun—at the time. It's just _one_ more, right?

Just one more leads to the next 'one more' which leads to the next, then so on and so forth, until said person has spiraled down _so_ _far_, they're hangin' out with good old Lucifer in the Pit.

Which, again, they still don't realize since they're too far gone at that point.

In fact it was something quite similar for infamous party goer, Dean Winchester, ladies man extraordinaire, with alcoholic tendencies to boot. He buried himself in so much denial, that he even got everyone else in denial for him as well!

With a simple, "Dude, chill! Maybe you're the alcoholic and _you're_ just in denial." He'd turn the situation on the person who called him out on his drinking habits, and sometimes even managed to get the other person to check into AA meetings. He had enough of their 'x-amount of years clean' coins they'd given him as thanks to fill his Impala as proof.

And though they say ignorance is bliss, in life or death situations, it calls for a time to step up to the plate and take responsibility for your actions. Which is exactly the kind of thing that Dean did _not_ do.

Nope.

Even after being found by his younger brother in yet another slum motel room, barely breathing and the floor littered in empty bottles, Dean was still in denial about his 'problem,' as he put it. There'd been quite a large amount of punching and shouting until Sammy had taken control of the situation by calling in their family friend, and practically second dad, Bobby for help.

Between the two of them they'd managed to shove a barely conscious Dean down onto the bed while they gave him one of their many 'we're worried about you and your life' talks. They'd made it about halfway through their speech, which they both had memorized at that point, when the bile rose in Dean's throat, just barely managing to make it into the bathroom.

In fact he hadn't, and ended up emptying half of his stomach's contents on the way _to_ the toilet, and the rest of it inside the porcelain bowl. He stayed their for another half hour, Sam rubbing his back to soothe him while quietly whispering words of comfort to his older brother. It was in times like those Sam realized just how fucked up the situation was.

Bobby had once again taken the liberty to clean up the vomit to help air out the room of its rancid smell. He took a mental note: that was the 6th time in 2 months that they had to go searching for Dean's drunken ass, only to find him a sobbing mess while he clutched the toilet as his body tried to hurl the alcohol out of his system.

Both Sam and Bobby were so worn out from their late night expeditions to drag Dean back to the world of the living. They'd tried to sign him up for AA meetings early on, before things got worse, but would get a hearty laugh from the man in question and, what they'd later find to be a false statement, of, "Guys, thanks and all but I'm fine. Just chill, there's nothing wrong." More often than not it was right after they listened to those words fall from his mouth that Dean would find himself on another drinking binge, just barely holding onto life.

It'd finally gotten to the point where they'd decided to take better control of the situation.

Come morning, Dean would find himself _not_ waking up to the familiar sight of Bobby's old worn out house, but instead to the white washed walls and smell of a hospital.

The time had finally come for rehab.


	2. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**: Supernatural © Eric Kripke_

_**Artist** **Note**: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews! As stated, the chapters from here on out will be longer than the prologue. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! I've planned out the rest of the story chapter by chapter, so hopefully I can keep a steady pace and update on a more frequent basis._

* * *

><p>The first thing that came to mind when he woke up was, 'fucking hell I need a drink..' There was a pounding in his skull, and his throat felt like it'd been clawed at from the inside. Dean's eyes just barely fluttered open as he tried to take in his surroundings. Tears began to form due to the blinding light overhead, he already decided he hated wherever he was.<p>

He knew right away he wasn't at Bobby's, the stale stench of disinfectant was the first clue. Bobby Singer did not do disinfectant. The second clue was the constant beeping noise that came from the side of his bed, he briefly glanced over to find a heart rate monitor. He would have groaned had his throat not been on fire. Dean knew immediately that he was in some hospital. When he swallowed he could feel where the tubes had scratched against the inside of his jugular, and he hated the thought of what he could have possibly done to warrant such an extreme course of action.

He was too tired to think, or perhaps it was the medication they were pumping into him that was making him drowsy, either way he let his heavy eyes close and let sleep block out the rest of the world.

Whether a few minutes or a few hours passed, Dean didn't know, but the next time he woke up Sammy was slouched in the chair next to him. He could tell his little brother had been sleeping for awhile, so he assumed he'd been knocked out for a good amount of time. Dean just stayed still and stared up at the ceiling, he didn't want to move—and frankly he was certain he didn't have the strength to do so anyway—and went over everything he could remember that could have possibly landed him there.

Images flashed through his mind in no particular order. He remembered going out to the Roadhouse with his friend Ash. At first they were just going to get a couple beers, but a couple turned into 6, which turned into taking shots, until they were both plastered. He remembered Ellen, the owner and long time family friend, kicking them both out and having Jo, her daughter, drive them to a motel for the night. After that, Dean remembered getting more liquor and stumbling into the nearest strip joint. There were women, lots of women, a couple he'd bring back with him to his room, while the other's he'd just fuck out back in the alley. He wasn't sure how long he'd been stuck in that run down motel, but he remembered he'd moved on to the next one after getting kicked out for not paying 3 nights in a row. The rest was a hazy blur of everything mashed together to form one giant drunken clusterfuck that was his life.

Dean didn't notice Sam wake up, and was surprised when all of a sudden his face was looming over his, the all too bright lights forming what looked like a halo around his head.

"Dean?" Worry laced his voice.

Dean did all he could do and slowly nodded in affirmation. He was still unsure if he could speak, or if he even wanted to. He knew the conversation he was about to get, he'd heard it so much even _he_ had it memorized word for word.

It was like a giant weight had been lifted off Sam's shoulder's when he watched Dean nod, relief washed over him immediately. "Thank God!" He slumped back into his chair and ran his fingers through his hair, "You've been out for almost a day now. Kind of touch and go there for a minute at first..but, I'm just glad you're ok."

Immediately Dean felt regret sink in. Guess it was worse than any of his usual nights. Even though his throat was still too sore, he still managed to croak out a broken, "sorry," before wincing in pain.

Sam nodded and frowned. "Dean...I know we've said this before, but this really has to stop." He bit his lip nervously, "The Doctor's said that if you keep this up then you'll drink yourself to death before you hit 40." He rested his elbows on his knees and let his head drop to his hands. "Bobby and I have been talking. And, well...just remember we only want what's best for you. Anyway, we took the liberty of..." He paused to swallow, "Of getting you checked into one of the local rehabilitation facilities that the hospital is associated with."

Dean's mind went blank at that. He had to have misheard him. Did Sam really just tell him that he'd be going to rehab? His regret quickly turned to anger and at that point he didn't give a flying fuck about any kind of pain he was in.

"You what?" His voice sounded too deep to be his.

"Dean we just want to make sure this doesn't happen again. You really had us worried." Sam tried to explain.

"Sam I don't need looking after, I'm fine." He balled his hands into fists and nearly broke the skin on his palms with his fingernails. Seriously, how many times did he have to tell them? He wasn't some whacked out alcoholic!

Sam scoffed, "Don't tell me you're trying to play that card on me. After all of this?" He nearly yelled as he motioned to the hospital room. "Dean you landed yourself into a _hospital_ this time! You're seriously out of control!"

"Yeah, sure, whatever. I didn't ask for you guys to _'look out for me' _you know." Dean spat. He ran pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Well that's just what family does. We're there for each other, even if they don't want us to be." The younger Winchester stood and turned away. They were both silent, the only sounds were the heart rate monitor and both of them breathing. Sam swallowed hard before continuing, "Dean I just...We've lost mom, dad, and I don't want to lose you too."

The eldest brother let the words sink in. He knew how hard it'd been for both of them when their mom died. Dean had to deal with the loss of the greatest woman to ever be in his life, while Sam had to deal with never having known her. Then with the loss of their father the past year, it all seemed too much for either to handle. They'd all been in a terrible car accident, and unfortunately John never made it out aline.

But Dean Winchester was not stupid, so he couldn't fathom the idea of his drinking being that much of a problem to the point of worry his little brother to near death.

"Sammy?" He found his voice was a lot softer this time, "How bad is it?" He looked into those puppy dog eyes that were on the verge of tears.

Sam licked his lips, "You were gone for almost a week this time. Bobby got a call from Ellen and then Ash saying that they were both worried about you since they hadn't seen you either. When we finally tracked down what motel you were staying in..." He looked away and shook his head. "The entire floor was covered with empty bottles, I'm pretty sure there might have even been some tangled up in the bed sheets."

Dean snorted at that. Of course there would be. He let Sam continue.

"You puked your way to the bathroom, and then I had to stay in there with you while you puked some more. I went out to check on Bobby while he was cleaning up, I couldn't have been gone for more than a minute." He paused, sitting back down. "Dean you were having a seizure by the time I got back. I almost watched you die, had the paramedics not shown up so soon." Sam let out a shaky breath once he finished.

Dean's eyes widened, he wasn't sure what to say to that. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, but he knew there was nothing he _could_ say.

Both brothers remained silent as the night went on. An hour passed before Dean tried to ease the tension. "So where is this freak joint anyway?"

Sam couldn't help but smile. Even in intense life threatening situations, Dean would always be the sarcastic jerk.

* * *

><p>A couple of days later and Dean was given the OK to leave with Sam to pick up a few things for him to take with to the rehabilitation center. He'd been given a list of things that were and weren't allowed in the center. A few things were common sense things to bring, as well as what not to bring, but then there were the few that made him shake his head and scoff.<p>

"Seriously! I can't bring any of my Busy Asian Beauty magazines! This is bullshit!" He slapped his hand against the list he was holding.

"Dude, I don't want to know what kind of weird porno shit you read! And I'm sure neither do they, so I can't blame 'em for putting on the list of things not allowed." Sam rolled his eyes.

"I can't even have my cell on me to call you guys." He ignored his younger brother's comment and continued to pout. "How long do I have to stay there again while they torture me?"

"Quit your whinin' ya idjit." Bobby added in, "You have a minimum of 3 months there, to hopefully get your head outa your ass."

"Awesome, thanks Bobby." Dean replied sarcastically and sighed. "This is gonna blow major balls."

The three of them were on their way to the center with all the items Dean was allowed to bring as well as what he wanted to bring for leisure time. Which wasn't much, since he mainly was hoping to bring his porn stash along. There was no way of sneaking it in either, since they did a search of all possessions the patients had.

As they pulled up to the building, Dean swallowed. His heart started to beat faster and he wanted nothing more than to run in the opposite direction. But he promised Sam he'd go. He didn't want to put Sam and Bobby through another situation like that again.

"I think I'll stick it out here in the car." Bobby said as he parked the car. The two Winchester's nodded and shuffled their way out. Dean was about to close the door when Bobby stopped him, "Hey, Dean. Good luck in there, kid."

Dean flashed him a quick smile, "Thanks, Bobby." He would've added in another sarcastic remark, but his nerves were getting the better of him. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was scared shitless to walk into that building. He'd have to face all the past skeletons in the closet, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for that.

Sam, with his little brother ESP, could sense his discomfort and gave Dean a reassuring pat on the shoulder. They both took a deep breath and walked towards the entrance. Dean gave one last glance back to Bobby's car and clutched his belongings tighter.

Just 3 months.

* * *

><p>The initial screening process hadn't been nearly as awkward as he'd expected. Dean was allowed a few minutes with Sam while he filled out some paperwork and then was told to say his goodbyes while he was taken for a tour around the vicinity.<p>

He didn't want to look back at his younger brother as he left so Dean kept his focus on the odd paintings that were hung on the walls in the receptionist area. The whole building was fairly large and wasn't quite as imposing as he initially took it to be.

"Alright, Mr. Winchester, right this way." The lady showing him around had an unusually high pitched voice, but her charisma made up for it. Dean automatically knew she would be one of the nice ones he could go to. She seemed too innocent to hit on, and he wasn't sure if he'd have the stomach for flirting in a place like that. Atleast not right away. He needed a good day or two to digest everything.

"Please, just Dean is fine." He corrected her before she kept up the formality.

"Alright, then, _Just Dean_," She giggled at her own joke, "You can call me Marisa." She held out her hand.

He gave her a half smile and shook it. "So, Marisa..what's it like here _honestly_." Dean looked up at a paper chain link that decorated the walls in some areas.

"Oh it's great here. And I'm not just saying that 'cause it's company policy or anything. I love it here. Everyone is so nice, and it's really amazing seeing the progress from when a person comes in to when they finally leave." She turned down one of the halls that led to an open room. No one was in it except for one guy that seemed to be fascinated by the ceiling. "This is the common area where everyone is allowed to mingle and such. You're allowed to eat here if you have a snack, but we ask that you don't make a habit of it."

Dean glanced over at the guy sitting by himself and wondered what he was in for. The guy looked too out of it to notice they were even there, but he surprised Dean by snapping his attention down to meet his eyes. A chill ran down Dean's spine at the sight of his piercing eyes. He was slightly taken aback by how hollow they looked, but more so by the bright cerulean colour they were.

He turned to leave when Marisa lightly tugged on his sleeve, "This way." She chirped and took him down to the dining hall. "And here's where all meals are served. You can sign up to help out in the kitchen, though it's not required." She leaned in to whisper in his ear, "But if you do I hear you get extra food."

Dean couldn't help but smile. He said nothing and continued with the tour. He was shown the different halls where people stayed. They were assigned different rooms with one other roommate. And although the center was a co-ed facility, they didn't allow for any co-ed roommates. Dean hadn't payed attention as to why, but he remembered them vaguely saying something about it being unhealthy to form sexual relations while staying there. As such, the bathrooms and showers were also split up by gender.

Dean was taken out to one of the fields they used to do group activities. It was fairly large, and Dean wondered how he'd missed it when they were driving up. Behind the field was a forest which he was specifically told were off limits, unless if a group hiking trip was set up.

"Is that were everyone else is?" Dean asked as he noted how barren the place had been.

"Yeah, actually. They should be getting back just in time for supper. You should sign up to go on the next one, they're really exhilarating, I'm told." Marisa smiled.

"Why wasn't that one guy on the trip?" He thought back to the one in the common room. _'The one with those freaky eyes.'_ He thought to himself.

"Oh, Castiel? Yeah he's never been one to participate in group activities other than the group sessions." She said with a sad smile.

"Antisocial?"

Marisa shook her head, "He's...a special case, that one. If you want to call it being antisocial, I guess that's one way to look at it. But.." She looked around, as if afraid to continue, "If you ask me, I think he's just been hurting too long to care. You know?"

Dean nodded in understanding, "Yeah." He thought of Sammy, his dad, and his mom. "I know what you mean."

Throughout the rest of the tour he didn't say much other than an 'I see' or 'ok' to show he was listening. Marisa was all smiles and he wondered if maybe _she_ was on something and just managed to hide it from everyone else. She seemed too happy, but if he admitted to himself, he was kind of envious of how chipper she was.

Eventually he was taken to his room where he was allowed time to settle in and set up his belongings.

"Alright, here you are. Remember where everything is?" Marisa leaned up against the door frame as Dean walked into the room he would be living in for the next 3 months.

"Yeah, think so. If I get lost I'll call for help." He winked at her and she just shook her head and laughed.

"You watch yourself, Dean." Marisa smiled warmly at him, "And, Dean, don't think you have to keep up that tough guy act here. Everyone here is dealing with some form of past demon. It's ok to be open and let your guard down." With that said she left him alone.

Dean looked around the room once more and wondered who he would be roommates with. He glanced over at the bed on the opposite side of the room. It had just the standard sheets that were given to newcomers, so he briefly thought that perhaps the guy he'd be staying with was new as well.

He shuffled over to his side of the room and started unpacking. It was when he was in the middle of making his bed that he heard someone enter the room.

He glanced up and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he gave the guy a once over. He wore a simple grey shirt underneath a loose jacket, and sweatpants. His hair stuck out in awkward angles and made it look like he'd just woken up.

But what startled him most, was to find the same intense blue eyes from earlier staring back at him.

"Hello." His voice was much deeper than what Dean had been expecting. "I'm Castiel, we didn't have the pleasure of introducing ourselves earlier." He held out his hand for Dean to shake. "Looks like we'll be roommates."

Something at the back of Dean's mind told him that the next 3 months were going to be some of the longest months in his life.


End file.
